


a watched pot doesn't boil (until it does)

by WriterGirl128



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fantastic Racism, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 15:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20932817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterGirl128/pseuds/WriterGirl128
Summary: Keith had never said anything, but then, Keith was never the type to say anything. He was the type to stick it out until it all boiled over on him, leaving him drowning and burned.(Time has proven that more people have a problem with thehybrid thingthan with theGalra thing, and Shiro would never understand the misplaced alien pride.)





	a watched pot doesn't boil (until it does)

**Author's Note:**

> T for slight language and just the overall theme, I suppose

“What business do you have, bringing the likes of him to my kingdom?”

The words were a sneer. Shiro stiffened, though did all he could to maintain his polite, professional composure. “Your Majesty, I’m not sure to whom you’re referring,” he said, tone edging on something dangerous. A warning. “The only people I’ve brought are me and my team, the other paladins of Voltron.”

“_Paladins_,” The Queen mocked, eyes narrowing in distaste, sharp and accusing. Her hair was this undone, wild thing, silver-lined ringlets haloing around her like a storm. Lengths of chain draped from her fingers to her armbands, the jeweled markings of a Boktran monarch, gilded with colors Shiro couldn’t put names to if he tried. This woman was a force of nature, it was clear—and it seemed like they were heading towards a natural disaster. “You allow an enemy into your own ranks and dare deem yourselves the defenders of the universe?”

The entire team was tense, and if they weren’t in the midst of a _very _high risk, high stakes diplomacy invitation, well—someone probably would’ve gotten some bruised knuckles at that comment.

As it was, Shiro’s gaze hardened into something immovable, unwavering. They needed this alliance, he reminded himself. The Boktran people were ruthless in battle, and had resources to spare. An ally in them would be an invaluable investment in the Coalition. “There are no enemies here, Your Majesty. Whatever you’ve come to think—”

“What I have come to _think, _paladin,” the Queen cut him off, very slowly and very deliberately, “is that our world—my people’s culture, our entire civilization is on the brink of utter annihilation. Because of _them._” Her glare cut away from Shiro’s, and he had no doubt where it landed. He felt a pang of something deep in his chest, but said nothing. “So long as you have one of them strung along, you put your lives and all of your allies’ lives in danger. They are not to be trusted, and allowing it to be a paladin of Voltron is nothing short of disgrace.”

“We didn’t allow _him_ to do anything,” Lance spoke up from behind Shiro, his voice like steel. “He was chosen, just like the rest of us. He’s Voltron’s right hand, and the best pilot we’ve got. Just because he’s half Galra—”

“Half,” the Queen sneered, disgusted eyes blowing wide, and internally, Shiro swore, sensing a bad situation get infinitely worse.   
  
He didn’t really understand the hang-ups on blood purity, but time has proven that more people have a problem with the _hybrid thing_ than with the _Galra thing_, and Shiro would never understand the misplaced alien pride.

“Half?” the Queen repeated, low and dangerous. “You brought a _halfbreed_ to my kingdom? Do you know nothing about the laws of this land? Do you care naught for this people?” Again, her eyes cut back to Shiro’s. She shook her head. “I am sorry, paladin—but so long as you have your trust misplaced and can so blindly disrespect my court, I cannot in good conscious agree to any endorsement or affiliation with the Voltron Coalition. Now, if you were to handle the issue—”

“_Issue?” _Lance nearly growled, and Shiro bit his tongue to avoid following Lance’s example.

The queen shot Lance a withering glare before continuing. “If you were to rid yourself of the issue, then I would consider lending my kingdom’s support. But there is an enemy in your midst, with corrupt and tainted blood, and I will not send more of my people to their deaths—and I most certainly will not put their futures in the hands of a _mutt_. Surely you can understand, paladins.”

Shiro was about to respond, about to argue that no, he didn’t understand, that she was wrong, when someone cut him off from behind with a crystal clear, “We understand, Your Majesty.”

Shiro’s head whipped around, while behind him, the Queen rose from her seat. “_You do not have a voice here,” _she snarled, and though Shiro’s eyes had locked onto Keith, the red paladin’s expression impassive, he could hear the edge in her words, could nearly see the nasty curl of her lip. “_Halfbreed_. You dare speak to me, in my court, after everything your people have done?”

Keith’s jaw tightened, just a fraction, visible still through the planes of his helmet. “Zarkon and his Empire are not my people,” he denied, brief and firm. “I’m a Paladin of Voltron, and my allegiance is with the resistance.”

“Your _allegiance, _to be perfectly frank, isn’t worth two glocktras. Neither is your word, for that matter.” The Queen’s expression twisted, cruel and stony. “Your kind is good for treason, and treason alone. Perhaps it holds true that the Empire didn’t send you, but it is in a halfblood’s nature to be two-faced, and default sides. An attribute of being incomplete by design. Your kind cannot be trusted and you are not _welcome here_.”

Distantly, Shiro notices Keith’s hands balling into fists at his sides. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to say something to stop the cruel words. 

Keith, too, seemed at a loss, and stayed silent.

(That should’ve been the first sign. Keith, for as long as Shiro’s known him, always fought back. But not this time.)

The Queen seemed satisfied by his lack of response, but that didn’t stop the pull of her lips back, showing sharp teeth, or the growl behind her words. “You speak out of turn again, mutt, and my guards will rip that tongue from your throat, do you understand?”

And Shiro—_God, _he hated himself in that instant, because when Keith just clenched his jaw and pressed his lips tight and lowered his chin, he didn’t come to his defense. 

_Allura would be so angry if they messed up this alliance. _

“Look,” Shiro said instead, heart breaking as Keith averted his gaze, keeping it trailed low and far away. “Your Majesty, there has to be a way to convince you that we, as a team, can be trusted. What can we do to prove that all we want to do is help keep your people safe?”

The Queen pursed her lips, and though she trailed her sharp, hostile eyes on Keith, she truly seemed to mull it over. And in that time, all Shiro could think about were the resources and intelligence and manpower that they could gain from the alliance—_maybe one of the most vital alliances we could ever form, _Allura had said—and the fringe of hair shielding Keith’s face from view. Guilt churned unpleasantly in his stomach.

After a moment, she returned her gaze to Shiro’s. “I will speak with your Altean Princess,” she decided finally. “_Only_ her. And you will get the halfbreed off my land and swear _never_ to allow him to return.”

Shiro swallowed. It tasted like battery acid. “Deal.”

And so they went.

* * *

“Maybe I shouldn’t come to diplomacy meetings, anymore.”

They were the first words spoken since returning to the Castle, tempers high and blood boiling, but they seemed to bring everyone back as they turned in their seats to face the Red Paladin. For a moment, there was silence, the recycled air hanging heavily around them.

Shiro found his voice first. “_W__hat?”_

Keith shrugged slightly from his seat, dropping his gaze a fraction. “I… don’t think I should be present at diplomacy extensions in the future,” he explained, too evenly, before looking at Shiro again. “Let’s face it—I’ve never been good at negotiation anyways, and ever since—“ His words died on his lips. His jaw tightened slightly, eyes flicking away in irritation. “My being there just makes people uneasy. It makes their trust in Voltron waver, and it’s not good for the Coalition.”

“Screw the Coalition,” Lance growled, eyes narrowed, uncharacteristically venomous. “People like that—people like the Queen? If they have issues with us as a team, then that’s their problem. Maybe they deserve to be a little uneasy.”

Keith sighed. “No, they deserve to be safe.” The way he said the words, as if they were obvious, twisted something deep in Shiro’s stomach. There was no room for doubt in those words. “It doesn’t matter what their opinions are, they deserve to feel like their worlds and their cultures are being protected, and that being a part of the Voltron Coalition is the right decision to make.”

“But the Coalition—”

“—needs _allies,” _Keith cut Lance off, clipped. “We need to make nice with as many civilizations, as many people as we can if we ever want to drive the Empire out. You _know _that.”

Shiro’s throat was so dry, he surprised himself by speaking. He wouldn’t expect he’d be able to. “We shouldn’t have to exile you from the meetings to make that happen.”

“No,” Keith agreed, and glanced to Shiro. “We shouldn’t. But if it’s what works, then fine.” He paused, working his jaw again as he shook his head. “I won’t be the reason the Coalition isn’t strong enough to fight back. I won’t be the reason the Galra win. Absolutely not.”

“Keith_—”_

“Shiro.” Keith’s voice didn’t waver. He shook his head, something in his eyes finally betraying the hurt he was hiding right under his surface. “This isn’t the first time something like this has happened, and I think we all know it won’t be the last. Allura—” he cut off, gesturing towards the airlocks below deck, “—of all people, _Allura _is down there, salvaging this because I almost cost us the alliance. She doesn’t even want me on this team anymore, and she’s down there defending my honor as a paladin. You can’t tell me that it wouldn’t be easier, in the long run, if I sat this part out. If I stayed out of the more public parts of the job.”

Shiro felt like someone had delivered a well-placed punch to his gut, breathless and a little bit stunned. _Allura still wants you here, _he wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure that she did. _It will be better next time, _he wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure it would. _People will get over it, _he wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure that they could.

“We need to present a united front,” he said instead, grasping at straws, forcing his eyebrows together and shaking his head. “People want to see Voltron, people want to see us working as a team—”

“People don’t want to see a Galran paladin, Shiro.” Keith’s words were concise, final, and his eyes were set. “Period. And to be honest, after what happened with the last one? I can’t say that I blame them.”

“That’s entirely different, and you know it_.”_

“They want to deal with _halfbreeds_ even less,” Keith continued, as if Shiro hadn’t spoken, and the word—_that word_—came out like a curse. “Let alone see one piloting one of the Lions of Voltron. We’re two-faced and incomplete, remember? It’s in our nature. Flawed by design.”

”Keith,” Shiro argued, “you know that’s not true.”

Keith shook his head, his brows furrowing close, pinched and annoyed. “Look. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I don’t—I don’t blame them for not trusting me. Please just leave it alone, okay? Let me do this.”

“Keith—”

“Shiro, I said leave it _alone_.”

He took a step closer, shaking his head and reaching to place a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “We can figure something else out. If we play into what they want, they’ll never learn—”

Keith shook him off with a grunt that may have been a growl, finally snapping under the pressure. “This isn’t some stupid teaching opportunity, Shiro—you need to _stop._” The words, brash and sudden and brutally honest, made Shiro’s breath hitch. Keith’s hands were balled into fists at his sides, and if Shiro hadn’t been caught so off-guard, he would’ve noticed them shaking. “If I have to listen to one more political leader tell me I’m some kind of unholy crime against nature, I’m gonna put my fucking head through a wall, okay? I can’t _do it anymore_.”

Shiro swallowed, the word _mutt _echoingthrough his head, the Queen's voice a sneer. There was a dangerous gleam in Keith’s eyes, something unsteady and wet, and Shiro wasn’t sure he’d seen his brother so close to tears since the Kerberos launch. He looked young. Scared. Tired. 

He hadn’t even _considered… _

Keith was always so resilient. Shiro had seen firsthand the identity spiral Keith had suffered after the Trials, and had accredited his remarkably quick recovery to stubbornness, or maybe denial. Diplomatic events made him uncomfortable, but then, they always had. He knew that generalized comments about the Galra were a sore spot_, _but Keith brandished his sharp tongue like a weapon and Shiro had never worried too much. Keith could take care of himself, in that regard—always had, always would.

He forgot, sometimes, that the tough exterior Keith puts so much effort into maintaining is just that: an exterior. He’s not some one-trick pony, who fights and gets angry and pilots well. He’s got skin made of jagged razors and rusty nails, but inside that layer of self-preservation, he’s still just a kid. Shiro hadn’t even considered that the words of these strangers would have the power to hurt his feelings so deeply.

Which was misguided on his part, because why _wouldn’t_ they? The value of his existence was being stripped down to what genes he has. Like that was somehow more of a testament to who he is than all the good he’s done, all the hurt he’s faced. That would be enough to get to anyone, no matter how tough they seemed.

Keith had never said anything, never made any indication of how much it was affecting him. But then, Keith was never the type _to_ say anything. He was the type to stick it out until it all boiled over on him, leaving him drowning and burned.

Shiro couldn’t believe he’d been so blind. He opened his mouth to respond, some feeble attempt at comfort, but Keith was already turning on his heels and stalking away, footfalls heavy and distant.

* * *

He knocked on Keith’s door a few hours later, two mugs of alien tea in tow. Keith’s eyes were ringed in pink when he answered, and his skin seemed too-pale against it, but he took the proffered mug and allowed Shiro entrance.

_(There’s nothing wrong with you.)_

_(I know.)_

_(You have nothing to be ashamed of. You're as worthy as anyone else on this team._ _What's in your blood doesn't change that. You’re not incomplete.__)_

_(I know.)_

_(I’m sorry I didn’t see you hurting.)_

_(...I know.)_


End file.
